Little Digital Clock
by Sybil Corvax
Summary: The little digital clock in the little room was counting them down. The few precious seconds before the calamity which was the end of the world. Arthur needed to make the best of them. Francis understood.


**Again, here I am with nothing of what people are waiting for. Seriously, I fail on so many levels. But, at least this is something :D**

**I'm right proud of myself for this, but I've been keeping track of my record for APH fics and noticed this:**

**I have killed Matthew.**

**I have killed Gilbert.**

**And now I've destroyed the world. What does that say about me? I think I'm becoming a serial killer. I've only escalated D: There's quite literally, no one left for me to kill.**

**Anyway!**

_Please Review_

* * *

><p>There once was a time when Arthur would have said that there would be no way in a million years that the last thing he'd die seeing would be Francis' face. Then again, that was quite a long time ago in comparrison to now.<p>

Now...

The streets were lined with fire which streaked from the black, smokey sky and it was hard to tell whether it was night anymore. The only proof of the time was the digital clock which sat in the middle of the table - red numbers counting down the limited minutes.

Seconds.

"**_**Angleterre**_**." The voice of the Frenchman was just enough to tear the Brit's eyes from the clock.

Green and blue were locked in a seemingly inseperable gaze and Arthur saw the resignment in Francis' gaze. Always the first to give up, wasn't he? No, that was a lie. Arthur had been the one to give up first - the day they got the news that they were indeed all going to die. It had been Francis' idea to continue on, smiling and acting like it was alright.

Arthur wasn't like that, but he was still grateful nonetheless that Francis had made these last days at least somewhat bareable.

He didn't even mind the little touches anymore because now, he had the sense to know it was the Frog's way of comfort. In a weird way, it worked, but even now, Arthur was too stubborn to admit it.

He wasn't able to hold the gaze with Francis long before he had to look away and scan everyone else along the table. Each and every other person who awaited their ultimate fate with a relatively straight face. Even Feliciano; who, despite clinging to Ludwig's arm rather tightly and looked borderline near tears, had long since stifled his sobs and was just awaiting what was to come.

They were all together - united for the first time in all of their long, long lives.

From America to Australia. They were huddled around the table, watching the little digital clock count down the time as they were left to wonder just how long they had left.

It was an aching feeling in Arthur's chest as he glanced around the table at the sullen faces. Those who were huddled against one another, clinging on until the very ultimate end.

Matthew hugged Alfred's arm tightly, his head rested upon the American's shoulder. His eyes were closed and his breathing was steady. It was hard to really see, but Arthur was certain that Alfred was hugging the Canadian around his waist in an attempt at comfort. Even though Matthew really, hardly looked too bothered at all.

Elizabeta and Roderich were hooked at the hip. Intertwined in an affectionate embrace. With them, no words needed to be said as they remained as such. Unmoving and silent.

Gilbert was one of the few who was on his own. He wasn't at the table, Arthur noted, and the former empire was standing in the corner of the room which overlooked the burning outside. Ruby eyes flickered and the Englishman made out the slight tremble of the Prussian's shoulders which soon steadied themselves.

It seemed that even the most egotistical of them all hadn't expected to live so long in a world where he no longer existed. Especially not so long to see the end of that world.

...

Arthur was surprised, honestly, that this was passing over so well.

That there was no screaming.

No crying.

That each and every single one of them was so willing to accept their fate.

Maybe it was because they were already disconnected from their people. Perhaps because it was a silent, unified desicion that this would be the one time that fighting would be out of the question. They were all going to die, so why not make it as peaceful as possible?

They'd spent their entire lives fighting after all.

Some of them more than others.

Arthur's eyes briefly flickered to the silent Frenchman beside him, blinking when he saw him no longer there. In a momentary panic, he looked around the room and held in a sigh of relief to see that Francis had taken to Gilbert's side. No words were exchanged between the two, but the way Francis touched his shoulder and looked out of the melting glass was enough.

Silent tears streaked down the Prussian's cheeks.

Arthur felt the same tears prick at his own eyes and he glanced away from the scene, only to realise that everyone else in the room was crying as well.

From stoic Berwald to the angry Romano, every single person in that room was in tears.

None of them left the room and all of them clung to whoever they loved most.

Alfred was the one to break the silence as he tried to console the teary Matthew and it didn't once cross Arthur's mind that it was incredibly unsurprising that the typical-loud-mouth American was the one to break the quiet to begin with.

"It's gonna be okay, Mattie."

Empty promises at most, but Arthur still watched on as Matthew clung to Alfred's neck as tightly as he possibly could.

The murmur of 'it's going to be okay' flooded the room quietly as each one of them spoke to the person beside them. Arthur knew that they all knew that it was fruitless, but he supposed that it was important for them to at least say something.

The little digital clock continued to steal time away.

Now, Arthur was the only one who was watching as the room flooded in little anacdotes of stupid petty fights of the past between nations who were once enemies. There was minute laughter between Denmark and Sweden for the first time in centuries and Norway had even brought himself to gently touch the Dane's arm.

There was no war here. Only peace.

It was the most ironic thing.

It was the thing which brought the Englishman to tears the most and as his shoulders shook, he almost jumped upon feeling the familiar hand against the small of his back.

"Come, Arthur." Francis whispered softly, blue eyes glancing towards the door of the little room and for once in a very long time, Arthur had no means to object nor argue.

He got to his feet and he followed his once sworn enemy out into the flames which danced in the streets where his children used to play.

He could feel the burning sensation of the flames reaching and licking at his clothing, but he ignored it for the sake of following Francis who knew where he was going. Which was a little strange, really, but Arthur really didn't have it in him to argue or speak at all. There was this sense of tiredness which overwhelmed him now.

He supposed it was impending death.

He didn't really care about that anymore.

"This was not how it was supposed to end." Francis suddenly declared, stopping himself in the middle of a burning park.

The smell of dying leaves was overwhelming, but decidedly nice, Arthur decided.

He didn't respond to Francis' statement and instead peered up at him, unable to explain why exactly his heart was pounding so hard. But, just because he couldn't explain it, did not mean he didn't understand what it meant.

"We were supposed to have forever. We have wasted too much time, _**Angleterre**_. Fighting..."

Arthur remained quiet as the Frenchman pressed on.

"And now, here we are. It is hard to imagine, __**non**__? That we used all of our time fighting rather than following __**nos coeurs**__."

"Everyone used their time like that, Francis." His voice was rougher than he'd intended and the Frenchman blinked, honestly surprised that the Brit was able to talk at all.

He smiled; Arthur's heart thudded painfully.

"You used to be so small." He whispered.

Arthur would have flushed and shouted at him for bringing up the past like that at any other given time, but he didn't have it in him today.

Tonight?

...

This _final _day, he didn't have it in him because this _final _day was the day that peace was finally going to be on Earth.

Because they would no longer exist to blacken its purity.

"Time passes much too quickly - even the time that seems like it will never end." Francis murmured, reaching out for Arthur's hand and the Brit gave it up willingly - actually welcoming the touch and the warmth despite the flames which surrounded them.

"...no longer." No longer, what?

"...I will no longer waste such precious time. Especially since there is so little left." Ah.

Arthur peered up at the Frenchman expectantly now; green eyes flickered as he took in every detail of his face. From the stubble upon his chin to the shade of blue of his eyes.

At any other given time, he would have pushed him away, but this...this was all they had. Their only chance. Their last few seconds together. Minutes? No, he had to think in seconds. If he thought they had minutes, he'd spend so much time talking and so little _doing_.

Arthur was never the impulsive type, but just this once...

When it really, really mattered.

Calloused fingers touched the side of his face and he kept staring up into those eyes. Those eyes which had often peered at him with distaste, but at the same time, had always held an element of affection and regret.

Francis was sometimes a very unreadable man and it really wasn't until this precise moment that Arthur really understood everything. Perhaps he'd always had these...thoughts and conclusions, but now was the first time he truly understood.

He reached out and slid one arm around the Frenchman's waist, resting his cheek against his chest. Francis blinked only once before he smiled and held Arthur as close as he could muster. Now, Arthur could feel the trembling and he tilted his head upwards.

__Carpe Diem. __

Probably the only time he'd ever use that term again.

__Seize the day.__

He wasn't going to complain, really. He could...live with this? Live would be a pretty loose term for it, however, he decided. Francis regarded him quietly and his smile at this moment seemed incredible and Arthur really wondered exactly how he hadn't noticed this before.

Or had he noticed and just pushed it down?

No more time for such thoughts - it was the end of the world, he reminded himself as he leaned in.

The moment the two opposites came together, the little digital clock in the little room where peace on Earth could finally be found hit zero.


End file.
